On God, in whom salvation And boundless mercy dwell. VIII. The leprous spots that stain thee, He then will purify; Sin's fetters that enchain thee, He gently will untie. PSALM CXXXI. BY FRANCIS DAVISON. I. OH Lord, my mind, puff'd up with pride, Nor poor men scornfully neglected. My wary actions ne'er have stray'd Beyond the bounds of my condition; I have no plots, nor projects laid, That tend t' aspiring, or ambition. II. But as an infant late divorc'd And from ambition's breast am weaned. III. Oh, Israel, tread thy humble path, PSALM CXXXII. BY FRANCIS DAVISON. I. WHAT is so sweet, so amiable, Whose hearts in bands inviolable II. It's like unto that precious ointment, Us'd to embalm, by God's appointment, Whence, in a fragrant shower descending, Then to his robes, his sweetness lending, About his skirts did trace. III. Or to the dew wherewith grey morning His greens with peckled flowers adorning, From Hermon to Mount Sion pouring His fertile rivulets, And all engreening and enflowering Those pleasant mountainets. IV. Where this love-knot remains unbroken, God, heaps of bliss doth send; Yea, heavenly bliss it doth betoken, Exempt from change, or end. PSALM CXXXVII. BY FRANCIS DAVISON. I. By Euphrates' flowery side We did bide, From dear Judah far absented, Tearing th' air with mournful cries, And our eyes With their streams the stream augmented: When poor Sion's doleful state, Desolate, Sacked, burned, and enthralled, And thy temple spoil'd, which we Ne'er should see, To our mirthless minds we called. |